The Founders Read Chamber of Secrets
by rdy2rokGURL
Summary: The founders are now in the second book in the series. Will secrets arise and change the course of future events? [set before the Chamber was thought of] Rated T


**A/N: OKAY GUYS. I'M GIVING THIS SERIES ONE MORE TRY; however, I will set down some points here:**

**1. I haven't read the books in a period of time, so if I forget or alter some information, feel free to tell me. I'm actually trying to read the whole series again to remind me about POTTER FEELS ;u; but the library has an incomplete set (either that or people keep borrowing it). Also, I'm going to watch POTTED POTTER in two weeks (really excited), and I want to keep up :D**

**2. I know the setting is in the olden times, but, of course, I can't really write how they used to talk during those times. Also, it would be kind of boring and hard to understand if the writing was too 'medieval', so I'm going to keep my writing formal rather than 'old'. I might accidentally bring up some slang, so please be prepared.**

**3. I've decided to make the characters react less violently and make them less biased (like Slytherin being all "OMG I'll keel you for being a stoopid mudblood) and all that crap. I'm going to alter it slowly, but I'm hoping a more mature attitude will dawn over the four of them at the end.**

**4. This isn't the only story I'm writing and I'm not really into FF anymore (more on DA), so expect slow updates. Summer is coming up after a few months, so I think I'll be able to update more often during that time.**

**5. This is mostly for humor…just pointing that out.**

**6. I was too lazy to reread the FOUNDERS READ PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, so I kind of forgot what I already had as 'canon' for this story (but I'm sure there weren't a lot).**

**7. I had a new writing style (writing in present tense), but I saw that I wrote in past tense in PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, so I'll be sticking with that. If you see any errors, tell me.**

**8. ENJOY! (to those who kept PM-ing me about the sequel!)**

"**The Worst Birthday**," Hufflepuff read and immediately, the atmosphere thickened. There was no way a book of Harry Potter's was going to start happily, they knew, but it didn't mean they liked it. After reading the first book and all the hardship he had to go through, they couldn't imagine something bringing him down more than having the worst birthday he had ever experienced.

**Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room.**

"Very good, Hedwig," praised Gryffindor with a smile.

"That will get him in trouble," Ravenclaw pointed out.

"**Third time this week!" he roared**

"Honestly," Slytherin interrupted with a sniff. "I hardly see him talk normally rather than bellowing at the top of his voice. In his eyes, it seems that whatever Harry does is an act of villainy."

"I think we've established that fact, Salazar," replied Helga. "That family will _never_ see sense no matter how much Harry or any wizard explains."

**across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"**

Ravenclaw huffed. "Honestly, he can't expect an owl to be kept inside an enclosed space without making a racket. They were meant to fly freely."

**Harry tried, yet again, to explain.**

"He should just give up," Godric said with a sigh.

"**She's bored," he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night -"**

"That will never happen," Slytherin commented, "so there's no use asking for it."

"**Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache.**

Gryffindor chuckled. "Quite a bit."

"**I know what'll happen if that owl's let out."**

"I'm hoping it will put some droppings on the top of your head," Godric said.

Helga rolled her eyes. "Such a childish remark, Gryffindor, as always. But let's look at the serious side of this situation. I'm guessing that's why Harry had a bad birthday. Since he gained friends from the previous year, he would be expecting some gifts from them; however, Hedwig was locked up in his cage, so he wasn't able to receive—"

"Helga, I must stop you there," said Rowena. "Although your theory may be correct, Ron, Hermione and the others could use their own owls to deliver the presents, am I right?"

Helga grumbled, "You're always right."

"How do you know the muggle-born has an owl?"

"I would assume, since she knows it's the most common way of delivering messages in the Wizarding world. Anyway, I think we can slash out that theory."

"Very well," Helga said stiffly as she continued.

**He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.**

**Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley.**

Helga wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"That child has no manners," Rowena said. "I don't think he even grew at all."

"Grew a bigger head," Gryffindor joked. "Maybe."

**"I want more bacon."**

"**There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must build you up while we've got the chance…**

Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Of course. Build him up until his pride reaches the heavens and he wouldn't be able to walk on his own two feet. Argh, I hate the way they have to pamper him like that."

"I think we'll have to endure this for much longer," Ravenclaw muttered.

**I don't like the sound of that school food…"**

Gryffindor's eyes narrowed considerably. [A/N:**Insert unsure Fry meme here**] "I'm unsure if the food at school is just not good enough for her standards, or it's really not good enough."

"Any situation concerning the Dursleys is always confusing," Helga commented.

"**Nonsense Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily. "Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?"**

"Ah, well then, that answers that," Gryffindor murmured.

**Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry.**

"**Pass the frying pan."**

Ravenclaw furrowed her eyebrows. "No manners as always. He was worse than before!"

"Did we expect better, my lady?" Helga sighed.

"**You've forgotten the magic word," said Harry irritably.**

**The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.**

Salazar groaned in disgust. "Must they react so violently? Those filthy, inconsiderate—"

"Salazar," Rowena said sharply. "I would much appreciate it if you would keep the cursing to a minimum. Those words are completely unnecessary when reading the book."

Slytherin shot her a look, but he didn't speak up.

"**I meant 'please'!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean —"**

"Too late," Godric said.

"**WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table,**

"Disgusting," commented Helga. "Who could ever eat with someone who sprays saliva all over your food?"

"Well, there was once a time where I had to attend to this get-together," Gryffindor said. "We had to sit at assigned tables and I faced Old Man Fabio…the one who doesn't have a single tooth in his mouth anymore."

"The one who spits out whenever he had to talk?" Helga asked.

"Correct, that's the one. In matter of fact, I was quite far away from him, but alas, his saliva did reach my plate."

Rowena looked at him disgustingly. "Ah—I feel sorry for you, Godric. You weren't able to eat the delicious food. Those meetings always served the best kind of—"

"Oh, I still ate it."

All three founders looked at him with wide eyes and contempt. He stared back at them with an innocent expression. "Why are you all giving me those looks?"

"You still _ate_ the food where Fabio's spit landed?" Slytherin said incredibly.

"I couldn't let it go to waste!" Godric replied in-matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing to do. "Their roast turkey is my favorite and I wouldn't let anything come between me and my beloved poultry."

"But doesn't Fabio's saliva smell extremely horrid?" Helga asked curiously.

"As I said, I will never let anything come between me and what I love."

"I don't think that will apply to a woman you'll meet," Rowena sneered and Godric sent her a look. "I'm sure you're the kind to put food in front of love."

"I'll put food in front of magic, if that's the case." Godric paused. "All right, maybe they're equal."

Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Continue, Lady."

**"ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"**

"'M' word?" Rowena laughed.

"They are extremely immature," Helga said disappointedly with a shake of her head.

"**But I —"**

"**HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!"**

"And it seems that they aren't reasonably either," Slytherin said, raising one eyebrow slightly.

Helga's anger boiled as her cheeks turned a little red and puffy. "My goodness! They see no sense whatsoever! The more I read about them the higher my blood boils!"

"Calm down, Helga," Rowena said. "They aren't worth getting angry about. Especially since they're not really here."

"I agree," Godric said. "Just wait until Ravenclaw here builds that time machine, then you can get angry." He sends a merry smile towards the founder.

**roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.**

"Well, he certainly gets angry easily," muttered Slytherin.

"**I just —"**

"**I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"**

"Abnormality?" Helga cried, incredulous. "Harry already had to go all through those adversities! And in the end, he had a happy group of friends and he had a wonderful experience in Hogwarts. Now, they're bringing him down? Unbelievable!"

"The Dursleys are always unbelievable," Godric said. "Actually, I'm not sure if it's a possibility a family like that could exist! I mean, really, what kind of person is _that _horrible?"

Salazar snickered. "Not _all_ people have rainbows over their heads and sparkles where their eyes should be."

**Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.**

Helga laughed. "Ha! I knew it! He's gone too heavy that he couldn't even bring himself up anymore. That's the result for feeding that little bugger too much that his stomach can't hold."

"**All right," said Harry, "all right…"**

**Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.**

"Hmm," Rowena said, "It seems that I've only noticed this now."

"What?" Godric asked.

"The author is rather exaggerating when it comes to the Dursleys. It's like she described them in ways that made sure we would hate them."

"But even _without_ the descriptions, we already do," Helga pointed out.

"And their foul aura is practically radiating throughout the book," Salazar said.

Rowena sighed. "Just an observation," she said. She hated the Durselys as well, but she's beginning to think it's because of the overstressed explanations. Then, she thought about how they treated Harry…locking him in the cupboard, not bringing him food, depriving him from his needs…

Yes, she definitely disliked them.

**Ever since Harry had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy. As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be.**

Godric grinned. "No, he's extraordinary."

**Harry Potter was a wizard**— **a wizard fresh from his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have him back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry felt. **

**He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache.**

"Aww," Helga cooed.

**He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts,**

Helga's nose wrinkled. "He liked the ghosts?"

"He _has_ been living with the Dursleys," Godric explained. "I'm sure you'll miss the grime on the walls if you were in his place."

**his classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the post arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch,** **the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks).**

Rowena groaned. "I don't need an explanation for Quidditch."

"I beg to differ," Godric said with a grin.

**All Harry's spellbooks, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard**

All the founders' eyebrows furrowed at the statement.

**under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer?**

"That will never happen," Godric said proudly. "He is too much of a prodigy."

Rowena rolled her eyes. "Really, Gryffindor? He shouldn't worry about Quidditch anyway. He should be worrying about his studies. What if he wouldn't be able to catch up when he goes back to his classes?"

"That's why they're classes. They teach the lessons you need to know there so you wouldn't have to do it at home. It's like someone else is reading the book _for_ you." Godric stared at Rowena with an expression that says, 'See? I'm the one making sense now.'

She, in return, shook her head in disgust.

**What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done?**

"Good," Rowena said. "He's worried."

"You're happy that the boy's worried?" Salazar asked her.

"NO! You know what I mean," Rowena snapped.

**The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame.**

"He should just move out," Helga grumbled.

"To where?" Slytherin asked.

"I don't know, but why did he have to be put in _their_ custody. Shouldn't he be put with relatives that had magical blood? It would be a much easier life for him."

**Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world.**

**Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family.**

"Thank goodness for that," Salazar sneered.

"Although he is malnourished, isn't he?" Helga asked.

"I'm sure he gained a few pounds when he went to Hogwarts," Godric said.

"But he stayed with the accursed family during summer," Helga argued. "I'm sure they sucked all those pounds he gained from eating at Hogwarts along with the food. They're like—They're like—"

"Dementors of food? Dementors of Harry's nourishment? Dementors of his happiness? His personal dementors?" Godric suggested. "I could list down a hundred more versions."

"Exactly!"

**Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black mustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky. Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar.**

**It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years before.**

"Can we skip the introductions?" Salazar asked.

"No," Rowena said firmly. "There might be valuable information in between the words."

"Like how Dudley is actually half-pork?" Godric asked.

Rowena sent him a glare and asked Helga to continue.

**At the age of one year old, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort,** **whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak.**

The men scoffed.

"Who would fear someone who got stuck at the back of someone's head?" Godric said.

"And someone who got defeated by an eleven-year-old?" Salazar added.

"Well, if I would imagine a face at the back of someone's head, it would give me a fright," Helga pointed out. "Who would want to see a face with slits as eyes—like a snakes—at the back of your teacher's head?"

"Also," Rowena said, "Harry had accidental help from the Philosopher's Stone. And it was Dumbledore's final obstacle that stalled Voldemort from stealing the stone."

"How about his friends? A bunch of eleven-year-olds outsmarted obstacles made by the best of Hogwarts' teachers," Slytherin commented.

"Salazar, you're disgracing the Hogwarts name," Rowena said.

Salazar flinched as if he just realized it and said, "Oh yes…."

**Harry's parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry** **had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow — nobody understood why —Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry. So Harry had been brought up by his dead mother's sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that he had got his scar in the car crash that had killed his parents.**

"I still could not believe that they said that," Helga muttered.

**And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry, and the whole story had come out.**

"The truth," Rowena said with a nod.

**Harry had taken up his place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous… but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly.**

"Ugh, why must he live with them?" Godric asked.

"I'm sure there's an explanation," Rowena said.

"It must be a good one or I will explode of anger," Helga replied.

**The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday. Of course, his hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given him a real present, let alone a cake — but to ignore it completely…**

"If they _had_ given him something, I'd think they were nutters," Salazar commented.

**At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."**

Rowena laughed without humor. "Don't get your hopes up, Harry."

**Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it.**

"**This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Vernon.**

"Should we expect anything _good _from them anyway?" Godric asked.

**Harry went back to his toast. Of course, he thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills).**

"**I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. **

"They are all such false people!" Helga exclaimed. "Who would have to rehearse for a transaction?"

**Petunia, you will be —?"**

"**In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."**

"**Good, good. And Dudley?"**

"**I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"**

"I hope they'll be able to see through their act," Salazar said. "Though, I'm already sure they're not very good at acting. If those Masons couldn't see through their façade, then I assume they're as idiotic as the Dursleys."

"Well, if they _did_ notice," Rowena replied, "I don't think they'd say it abruptly."

"**They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.**

"Who would?" Helga asked with disgust.

"**Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry. "And you?"**

"**I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry tonelessly.**

Rowena huffed. "What utter nonsense! Why would they tell him to do that?"

"**Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily.**

"Nastily is correct."

**"I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight-fifteen —"**

"**I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.**

"**And, Dudley, you'll say —"**

"**May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.**

"My, my," Salazar said bitterly, "I may have to applaud them for their preparedness. However, they wouldn't still be thought as natural."

"**My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.**

"**And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry.**

"**I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry dully.**

"He need not repeat that," Helga snapped.

"**Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"**

"**Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason… Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason…"**

"**Perfect… Dudley?"**

"**How about —'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.'"**

All of the founders gave a hearty chuckle after that.

"I am sure _that_ is already crossing the line," Godric said. "Who would write about a complete stranger?"

"These people are really unbelievable."

**This was too much for both Aunt Petunia and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing.**

"Oh, Merlin," laughed Helga.

"**And you, boy?"**

The merry atmosphere disappeared completely as Rowena said, "As I said, he already understood."

**Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged.**

Godric chuckled. "I don't think I would have been able to put a straight face in that situation."

"**I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he said.**

"**Too right, you will." said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. ****When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. Be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow."**

Rowena rolled her eyes. "Already skipping ahead, are we?"

"I'm actually hoping the boy would mess things up for them," Salazar commented.

"That would put Harry in trouble," Helga said. "But if it didn't, I would completely agree with your idea, Salazar."

**Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He didn't think the Dursleys would like him any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive.**

"I do not think they will bring him there in the first place," Godric said.

"**Right — I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you," he snarled at Harry. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."**

**Harry left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. He crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and sang under his breath:**

"**Happy birthday to me… happy birthday to me…"**

"Well, that's disheartening," Salazar murmured.

**No cards, no presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist.**

"Now, we know why it's the worst birthday ever," Helga said.

"Not yet. We don't know why his friends did not give him any presents," Rowena argued. "And I'm speculating that they did not give him any acknowledgement whatsoever."

"So…the owls are being intercepted?"

"Possibly."

**He gazed miserably into the hedge. He had never felt so lonely. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.**

**They, however, didn't seem to be missing him at all.**

"That is not true," Godric said. "Even without the letters, he should know from when he met them that they would never ignore him."

"People can change, Godric. And since he has been with the Dursleys for so long, I'm sure he became untrusting at times," Helga pointed out.

**Neither of them had written to him all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay.**

"I'm sure he did."

**Countless times, Harry had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Ron and Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school.**

Rowena nodded. "He should just wait and not be irrational. It's not worth it."

**Harry hadn't told the Dursleys this; he knew it was only their terror that he might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking him in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and broomstick.**

All the founders laughed except Rowena, who had a disappointed look on her face. "Come now, Rowena! That boy really is clever for doing that!"

"And that's the only thing keeping them for doing more horrid things to him," commented Helga.

"Still," Rowena said stiffly. "He should_ not_ use fear to gain what he wants."

**For the first couple of weeks back, Harry had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under his breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him.**

Godric, Helga and Salazar laughed quietly under their breaths. If Rowena heard them, she chose to ignore their laughter.

**But the long silence from Ron and Hermione had made Harry feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal — and now Ron and Hermione had forgotten his birthday.**

**What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? He'd almost be glad of a sight of his archenemy, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream…**

"You don't need a visit from that cold boy to make sure it wasn't a dream," Helga said.

**Not that his whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry had come face-to-face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power.**

"That is why it's unfair for him to have a bad birthday," Godric grumbled.

"You're like a child, Gryffindor," Salazar sneered. "Life is not supposed to go the way you planned. It can take many roads you don't expect it to take."

"Since when did you become Mr. Philosophical?" Godric snapped.

**Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes — Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. He had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge — and the hedge was staring back.**

All the founders' attention snapped at the book. The hedge was looking at him? What kind of sorcery is this?

**Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.**

**Harry jumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.**

"**I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling toward him.**

"Again with the waddling," Salazar said.

**The huge eyes blinked and vanished.**

"I wonder what that is," muttered Helga.

"It probably isn't good," Rowena said. "Why would someone follow and watch Harry? Unless, someone sent them there for protection against Voldemort's followers."

"I doubt that. Why would they let themselves be seen?" Salazar asked. "If they _were_ there to protect Harry and if they _weren't_ supposed to be seen, then they wouldn't look at Harry if they knew he noticed them. Anyway, it might be some sneaky neighbors spying on him—"

"But they said 'enormous green eyes'," Helga interrupted.

"The author tends to exaggerate, am I right?" Salazar said. "I wouldn't be surprised if she was just stretching out the idea that the person's eyes were wide."

"I guess we'll find out the truth soon enough," Rowena said.

"**What?" said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.**

"**I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.**

"**Well done," said Harry. "So you've finally learned the days of the week."**

"Despite all the hardships," Godric said with a smile, "I'm glad he still had the guts to make witty comments."

"**Today's your birthday," sneered Dudley. "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?"**

"**Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school," said Harry coolly.**

**Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.**

"Trousers? What's that? Can you consult the—" Gryffindor started, but he was cut off.

"They're clothing for your bottoms, Gryffindor," Rowena said. "They fabric wraps around each of their legs instead of flowing like a robe. Muggles use them."

"Really? They must really be constricting. I, for one, would _never_ wear pants."

"**Why're you staring at the hedge?" he said suspiciously.**

"**I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," said Harry.**

The founders chuckled.

**Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face.**

"**You c-can't — Dad told you you're not to do m-magic — he said he'll chuck you out of the house — and you haven't got anywhere else to go — you haven't got any friends to take you —"**

"He's not very good with comebacks, isn't he?"

"**Jiggery pokery!" said Harry in a fierce voice. "Hocus pocus — squiggly wiggly —"**

The four burst out with laughter. "What utter nonsense!" Rowena said. "Would he really believe that was _real_ magic?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he did," Salazar replied.

"**MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley,**

They all shook their heads in amusement.

**tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. "MUUUUM! He's doing you know what!"**

"Ugh, they really banned that word."

**Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew he hadn't really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan.**

For the second time, the light atmosphere dropped. "Why would she believe that he could do magic outside of Hogwarts?" Rowena asked. "Wasn't her sister a witch? She should've known that—"

"She would pretend that she didn't know, I'm sure," said Salazar, "so that she could get mad at Harry for doing so. Either that or her sister never mentioned it."

"She would still know if her sister didn't mention it."

"She hates her sister, correct? I think, during the past, that she would stay away from her as much as possible. She was bitter about it, so maybe she thought it was best to just ignore her."

**Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn't eat again until he'd finished.**

"At least she didn't _not_ let him eat," Helga murmured.

**While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench.**

"That's a lot of housework," Helga said. "Even for one day."

"It's just punishment."

**The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck. Harry knew he shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Harry had been thinking himself… maybe he didn't have any friends at Hogwarts…**

"He shouldn't think that way," Godric said firmly. "I hope things will be all right after this. I don't want to think that Ron and Hermione have severed their friendship that quickly."

**Wish they could see famous Harry Potter now, he thought savagely as he spread manure on the flower beds, his back aching, sweat running down his face.**

**It was half past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him.**

"**Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"**

**Harry moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.**

Godric's stomach grumbled and before he could say anything, Rowena said, "We'll eat after a few more chapters, Gryffindor. We ate lunch a while ago."

"A while ago is so long ago!"

"**Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table.**

"Wait, so they made him do plenty of chores, they forgot his birthday, they shouted at him…and they're going to give him bread and cheese for dinner? What injustice!"

"Not to mention that they'll have a hearty dinner for themselves."

**She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress.**

"I'm sure she looks like a boneless fish," Helga muttered under her rage.

**Harry washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away his plate. "Upstairs! Hurry!"**

**As he passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the door bell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs.**

"**Remember, boy — one sound —"**

"He need not be reminded," Rowena said again.

"Although I'm sure something is going to occur."

**Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.**

"Now there's our intruder."

"It's finished," Helga announced.

Godric shot up. "Great, now we can eat—"

"I said _after_ a few more chapters, Gryffindor," Rowena snapped. "Now, sit. We have to know this and it's more important than your grumbling stomach."

Said man slowly sat down with an incredulous look on his face. "_Nothing_ is more important than my hungriness…but since I'm afraid of you, I'll do as you say."

Rowena rolled her eyes as she got the book from Hufflepuff and handed it to Gryffindor forcefully. "There," she said, "that will take your mind off things."

"No, it won't," he grumbled immaturely, but he took the book anyway. He was eager to find out who the stranger was, so he agreed to read the next chapter.

**A/N: I've revived this story, but I don't know how long my Potter Feelings will last. I'll update rather slowly, but it's better than nothing, right? People have been bugging me about this sequel, and I felt kind of guilty about it. So here. C:**


End file.
